I didn't move or speak. I just sat there, staring at him, feeling the ground beneath me crack.
They had never planned on letting me go.
I had never been free.
Jace leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You should drink your whiskey," he said, almost conversationally.
I barely noticed my hand shaking.
The glass sat on the table beside me, untouched.
Everything inside me screamed not to touch it.
Martha sighed dramatically, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Can I go now?"
Jace lifted a brow. "In a hurry?"
Martha grinned, slow and sharp. "I just wasted four months on this shit girl. You think I wanna waste any more?"
I flinched.
For some reason, that hurt.
Martha, who had laughed with me.
Martha, who had made jokes, who had pulled me into her orbit, who had made me think, for even a second, that I wasn't alone.
She had never been on my side.
Not once.
Not for a second.
Jace raised a hand before Martha could turn away."You can't go yet."
